


Stone Fruits of Hiraeth

by mycherriesyourpeaches



Category: Waterparks (Band)
Genre: Angst, Awsten + Travis' Slumber Party Podcast Submission, Heartbreak, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Love, awsten loves geoff, awsten's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24200302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mycherriesyourpeaches/pseuds/mycherriesyourpeaches
Summary: hiraeth: a homesickness, a yearning for a place in which you can never return to. a life that was never fully lived.
Relationships: Awsten Knight/Geoff Wigington
Kudos: 3





	Stone Fruits of Hiraeth

The amount of time it takes for your life to change varies by the severity of the situation. It might take three years, one, even weeks for a completely life-altering moment. One could spend years working on a promotion, or months planning a wedding that will eventually seal their fate to the one that they want to spend the rest of their life with. The moment that they say "I do" with such finality and unadulterated joy that this moment is considered the happiest of all the years they have spent on this Earth. Everything can change in a matter of words. I expected it eventually. I never could have imagined those eyes, so blue I could die and as dry as mine weren't, mourning the end of our beauty. The words that spilled from those intoxicating lips stating what I feared most: "I don't love you anymore."

Everything that we had shared was merely a memory, and new ones were forbidden to be created. Every glass castle we had built was gone. Shattered. We had a future together: our 'someday.' Every moment that we could have created, only tangible to the lovesick fools who held it as our prized creation. We could have been happy. I don't know what hurts worse, the unwavering past or the future he no longer wants me in. The ashes from when my life burned down still surround me, accompanied by the air that still stands in sorrow.

The moment that ruined my life sticks with me like a vivid nightmare, the introduction to a godforsaken reality I had no means of escaping. I picture those eyes again, searching for every sign of forgiveness on my face through a jaded expression which only gave away tears rolling down the cheeks he once held gently. I don't know what I want from him. To see him again and yearn for his every touch? Perhaps I'll scream at him, ruin the chances of reconciliation as I did once, for merely existing. In those three blissful and awful years we had together, he never made me a better person. He made me happy, occasionally, but it was all so on and off; we were terrible for each other. We were lovers with reckless abandon, sharing kisses that my bedroom walls could only help but bear witness to. 

Somehow the worst part is that I still love him. There are parts of me that know better, but sometimes the thoughts of secrets shared between us and the connection we had, one that I could never dream of finding again, still find ways to convince me otherwise. There was a reason we kept finding each other again, there had to be. This heartbreak would be the death of me if I let it, but I refuse to die without one last kiss: the true finality to it all. Geoff once told me that I could have anyone that I wanted, what with adoring fans and turning every corner to someone telling me they loved me. But in knowing that everyone loved me, I had never felt so alone. I could never have anyone I wanted, for the only one that I ever wanted was him. 

I would truly give anything to see our manmade constellations in his eyes again, feel his warmth so endearingly against my skin. This shell of who I was, once, stands as strong and in routine as life continues to go on, as I merely exist in this world. The metaphors and poetry swirl as I hear his voice telling me that he wouldn't stray again, that my addictive lips ground him; we are reborn once again, changing with time but holding onto naivety in pretending that everything will be different this time. My eyes gloss over with bitter nostalgia.

I miss him.

***

It seems like I am all consumed by my love for him; as if all I am is tainted by his touch. Geoff’s touch was the only thing I held onto through the times in which rumbling thunderclouds took over my mind. The burning red-black static like dried blood could only be broken by his refreshing teal words. He was what I cared about through depression, through mania, and through it all. I loved him so dearly. 

Geoff only cared to love me occasionally. 

All I was to him was a backhanded compliment, a second boy to whomever he decided he loved more. At this very moment, Otto is Geoff’s new partner: one to be loved, touched, and cradled by Geoff, and envied by me.

Geoff was home to me.

Geoff was all I had.

Geoff was gone.

I still see them both, although they are better lovers to each other than friends to me. I branched off in the friend department, finding people to fill the inescapable void that Geoff left when he walked out my door for the last time. I found more people to deceive the substantiated loneliness I had learned to talk to. If Geoff decides to look back at me through his rearview mirror, I’ll put on the facade that I’m happy. That I’m loved. 

Who am I kidding? Geoff would never fall for that. He lived in my head, moving my thoughts around like hanging new constellations that were just for us. He knows all of my fears, my hopes, every corner of my mind. My heart was his to keep. He knew all of my intimacies, my vices, my passions, and he kept them locked away in a box with other cheap mementos from our relationship.

He loved me.  
Once.


End file.
